Standards

I can't remember if I've blogged about this before. It's likely that I have, and I've definitely had a conversation about it. I don't think it was KfW2... more likely to have been USHW or CC. Regardless, it comes down to standards or being picky.

I've had a few people tell me that I need to be less picky with the women I want to date. I've never understood that. I find someone attractive or I don't. What's the point in meeting (or even swiping/conversing) with someone that I don't find attractive?

Now... there's another aspect to it, and that's more obvious in online dating. There are deal-breakers. Rather, I have deal-breakers. And it's easy to do because they're just pictures on a screen. But it's easy, for someone my age, to automatically swipe left on single parents, or women who ride motorbikes. And I do. While I can explain the single parent thing, the women-with-motorbikes thing is something I only realised because of online dating, and there can be others.

So, my opinion is that I can't help who I find attractive, but I can help my swiping criteria. I just felt the need to share that, off a Reddit post that I've just found.

Bully for you.

At a recent work event, I caught up with an ex-teammate who's soon to be leaving the company. We were joined by other people and the conversation flowed. He started reminiscing about our time on the team, which I was more than happy to do. Probably inevitably, the subject of SSCW came up. I look back on my time working with SSCW fondly. There was great banter and we had this great back-and-forth going on (that I kinda think is similar to how CH and I got on albeit without the sexual tension).

But my co-worker had a different experience. He reckons that SSCW is/was a bully. He gave off plenty of reasons why, using examples not just of himself, but of other people in the team. And you know what? He has a point. Looking back, it's clear to me now that she was a bully. The thing is, I can't tell if she was doing the same thing to me or if the fact that I gave as good as I got meant she backed off a little in respect. It certainly didn't feel like she was bullying me.

Grin and bear it.

FFS. I'm just back from my semi-annual trip to see my dentist. I had been a few weeks back, but she had taken some emergency personal leave, so I only saw the hygienist. And the hygienist was more than happy with the state of my teeth, so I turned up this morning feeling confident.

Boy, was that a mistake. Thankfully, my teeth seem to be in decent enough shape, though I do feel like my teeth are more brittle than they should be (I've chipped or had bits of tooth fall off more than a few times over the past few years). What's not in good shape is the current dental work that I've had done in the past. At least three fillings and a crown are at a stage where they need replacing, and that's not cheap work.

Ordinarily, I'd not be that bothered as I get private dental insurance through work. However, I don't think the insurance covers re-work. I'm trying to look into it but the documentation either from my employer or from the insurer is proving difficult to find.

Diggin' her scene.

Another random memory today, this time triggered by my music as I was doing some work in the back garden. It was of my big school crush, SJ, one of the few people from school that I'd like to see again. It was triggered because, in order to get into my good books, she'd given me a tape of a couple of her favourite albums. One of them was definitely Level 42. The other might have been the Blow Monkeys. She was currying favour because she wanted to be let loose on my collection of soul albums - Otis Redding and that kind of stuff, and I was fiercely protective of them.

So when my random 80s Spotify playlist played both Level 42 and The Blow Monkeys in quick succession, I was transported back to school.

Too late

Years ago, when I had Attractive Neighbour as a, well, neighbour, we were on the hunt for a new housemate. We'd had issues before, selecting the first person who came through the door and it wasn't really a good fit. So, this time around, we'd made a point of seeing potential housemates over, I think, five days then we would decide on the best. It was still no guarantee that it would work out, but at least we'd be selecting the best from a bunch of people rather than the first person to reply to our advert.

On the third day, we interviewed two people. An English pilot and a Scottish doctor. The pilot was, quite frankly, an idiot. He reminded me of a roommate I had when I'd lived abroad and I was not in a hurry to repeat that mistake. However, the doctor was a breath of fresh air. She was outgoing, friendly, intelligent and funny. This was in stark contrast to most of the people we'd seen so far. My gut was to ask her immediately to move in, but MfW was adamant that we'd see out the other two days.

Suffice it to say, when we were chatting a few days later, the doctor was still my number one choice. It was MfW2's as well. Sadly, though, when I called her to let her know that the place was hers if she wanted it, she'd made alternative arrangements. If memory serves, I think she suggested that she couldn't hang around despite the fact that we were very clear about when the decision would be made.

And so, we settled for our second choice, who wasn't that bad, but he moved out about nine months later for a new job and we ended up getting NSU in, which is another matter entirely.

A random memory that popped into my head when I was doing some gardening earlier.

Urgh.

 Urgh. Bloody hell. I woke up an hour ago and couldn't get back to sleep. I can't remember the last time I was not just awake, but actually up and out of bed at this time on a Sunday morning.

Gah

Why does my washing machine tell me that a wash will take 2 hours, but when I come back to it an hour later, there's still two and a half hours to go? Make up your mind, you stupid machine!

Break it down.

I am still feeling a bit overwhelmed with the heating problem, trying to break the whole job down into smaller tasks and put them in the order I'll need to do it. I got sidetracked doing some more investigation on Reddit and found these pictures of the lovely Kate Mara.

Let's go.

A while ago, I was talking to Nerdy Girl about trying to get fitter. I explained to her that I thought a lot of my problem was not motivation but more that I got overwhelmed with the amount of information that was available to me and an inability to filter it out or make it all less complex was off-putting.

She was supportive and gave it a name, but I can't remember the phrase that she used.

I did find this post/article on the web which really hits home.

I think I had a similar conversation with USHW years ago around the same thing.

It's not just fitness, though, it's pretty much anything.

I'm currently trying to plan some work on the house - an upgrade of my heating system. I need to get the gas supplier out to ensure I can get gas (I know that I can, but that's a box that needs ticking). I also need to engage with fitters, to get a quote. I need to engage with the council, to get approval. And then I need to get the work done. And I'm sat here, looking at about twelve different websites wondering where the fuck I actually start.

I've gone down this road before and given up because I could only get 1 company at a time to give me a quote, and by the time I could get a second company out, the quote from the first one had lapsed.

But I need to be proactive on this one. My current boiler is on its last legs, so I reckon I'll need a new boiler before the end of the year regardless of getting a fuel conversion done. But a fuel conversion will open up the ability to do more work to the house by reducing or changing the pipes.

I've emailed the council. Baby steps.

Yog on.

I'm in the office today and something popped into my head; a random memory from pre-Covid days of seeing Quiet Girl in yoga pants on a Wednesday morning. A very pleasant thought/memory, I admit.

Ouch

I met Nerdy Girl last night and we did our usual walk/route. It's around 6 miles/10 km, and for some reason, my feet are fucked afterwards. Blisters, mainly. It doesn't matter what footwear or socks I wear, I've usually developed at least one blister by the time we part ways at the end. And last night was no exception. My feet are killing me.

Let's walk.

I almost forgot to mention that I'm meant to be seeing Nerdy Girl tonight. The weather's not bad here, so we'll do our usual walk rather than grab food or play pool.

Wet memories.

Years ago, I remember sitting in a bar with a few people. I don't recall exactly who was there apart from one person: FBS. I recall she was talking about a tattoo. She had quite a large one of, I think, a panther that went from her hip down her thigh.

I made some kind of comment. Maybe I admitted I knew about it already or something. 

"Oh, how do you know that?" asked FBS. I think she was trying to get me to admit that I'd seen it. This would have confirmed, publicly, that I'd seen her naked (or at least in her underwear). She wouldn't have worn short skirts or anything that showed off the tattoo. The inference was that if I'd seen the tattoo, I'd have seen her naked/with little on and the next logical step was that we'd slept together.

We'd had enough sex, woken up beside each other naked and showered together enough that I'd seen all of her tattoos. And FBS had a lot.

"You've told us about them before" I replied, with a straight face. It wasn't a lie, either, she wasn't shy about talking about them.

The reason for this memory? I saw a photo on Instagram from model Sabrina Lynn (I think I might have mentioned her before), who posted a photo of her in a shower, sporting a lot of tattoos, including one on her hip. And, yeah, took me right back to showering with FBS.

Looking back.

Earlier, I came across a post on Facebook last night that my sister had tagged me in a while back. It's an archived video from my old school days. Who features quite heavily at the start? SJ, my old school crush. That provoked some memories today, I tell you.

Hello there!

I went out for a walk at lunchtime, to get some fresh air. Who did I bump into? Quiet Girl! I needed to get back for a meeting, so we only spoke for a few minutes, but it brightened my day.

And so, while the meeting is happening, here are a few pictures of Kate Mara, who kinda reminds me of Quiet Girl.

Rain.

When I lived abroad, I was always fascinated by the weather. In one place, in particular, it was nearly always warm (at least by UK standards), but you could never tell if it was going to be a beautiful sunny day or it would be literal torrential rain.

While everyone else would scurry indoors when it started to rain, I'd happily trundle along, usually with headphones in, albeit getting absolutely soaked.

So, it was somewhat of a pleasant surprise this afternoon when I was attempting some gardening with my headphones in when the heavens opened. An unusually heavy shower for this part of the world. While it cut short my mowing, I was able to take my time tidying up, putting things away and doing a little reminiscing about my time abroad.

Memories and Daydreams

I don't know why, but I spent a lot of yesterday reminiscing about FA2. I've no idea why she popped into my head nor why I spent a lot of the day going over memories of good times.

Also, again for unknown reasons, my sister's university friend popped into my head. It's not like I've seen her on Facebook or Tinder recently. But I spent some time last evening daydreaming about meeting her, dating her and, well, going into adult territory.

Further Dreams (cont'd)

Actually, I've had a flash of inspiration. The Scottish rugby player in question in the dream from the last post was a combination of Lucy Verasamy and Eilidh Barbour. What's that? Do you want some pictures? Oh, go on then.

Further dreams.

Another weird dream last night. I was at a rugby match watching someone. E, I think. And then all of a sudden the Scottish Women's Rugby team were on the sidelines, cheering on both teams.

The match ended, and I ended up talking to one of the Scottish players, who was very cute. (As an aside, when I woke up this morning, she reminded me of a celebrity, but I can't remember who that is now, other than she was cute and brunette).

We ended up going on lots of dates without ever kissing, sleeping together or even becoming an item. And then I woke up.

I actually had a similar dream yesterday, but those details are almost completely gone now.

Dream a little dream.

CAB featured in a dream last night. The start of it was similar to what happened in real life as described in this post. However, what followed was that CAB phoned me the next day after we'd returned home and excitedly told me she'd booked a hotel for that night.

So I met her for drinks later, we checked into the hotel and, well, sealed the deal many, many times.

So, yeah, a bit frustrated this morning.